


Standing at the crossroads

by Varjoaika



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Crossroads demon AU, Demo and Engie have wives, F/M, Gen, I'm horrible with their accents, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:58:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varjoaika/pseuds/Varjoaika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UNDER CONSTRUCTION, will be redone in the future</p>
<p>Maybe he was curious, or adventurous. Or just drunk enough.<br/>Sniper wasn't sure which one it was, but the thing he was sure about was the fact he was standing in the middle of road, in the middle of night, and holding a wooden box in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> This is my very first fanfic I've ever published, and this all is kinda new to me, so be gentle with me haha.  
> I've had this idea in my head for so long you have no idea, and finally decided to make it happen.  
> So feel free to comment and tell should I continue or not, and I hope you enjoy!

 

Maybe he was curious, or adventurous. Or just drunk enough.  
Sniper wasn't sure which one it was, but the thing he was sure about was the fact he was standing in the middle of road, in the middle of night, and holding a wooden box in his hands.  
It had started just as a joke, like the majority of bad ideas. Once again the Australian had been spending his time in a small tavern that had clearly seen life more than twenty years. There were other taverns and bars in the town as well, but Sniper liked this one the most. It was slightly more apart from the town than any other buildings, and while it was cozily silent it wasn't deserted either. And not to forget about the owner of that place, who was his best friend, which meant booze for half price.

The Degroot's tavern had first belonged to the town of Teufort, years and years ago, just like any other building in there. But somehow the grand-grand-grand-something-father of Tavish's had been able to buy it, and now it was the most precious thing in their line of family. And Sniper found it really respectable. After finding his way into the tavern for the first time Sniper was soon to become one of the most frequent customers. His life didn't really include any other social interactions, and the place was cozy, it had good selection of different alcohols, and did he already mention it was cheaper than anywhere else? So, Sniper had thought, why the hell not visit there every time he wanted?

Tavish, the current owner of the tavern, was tall, Scottish man with only one working eye. If someone made the mistake of asking what exactly happened to his other eye, Sniper had heard so many different versions of it he didn't even remember all of them. Though his favorite was the one where Tavish sold it to a wizard in exchange of magical abilities. He sure as hell wan't one to believe them though, but it was always nice to hear a story from someone who was good at telling them. Actually, Tavish was so good at convincing everyone that most of the first timers actually believed him.

The story how Sniper had stumbled into the tavern was a whole completely thing, and he always thought it was too long to tell anyway. Lets just say it includes an old and broken van, shit-ton of walking and Tavish laughing his ass off for about twenty minutes. After that him and Tavish became almost inseparable, and in two month Sniper found himself surrounded by group of men who he was proud to call his friends. That's where he got his nickname from, too. All of them had nicknames that came from their own traits.

Tavish liked to go by name Demoman, which Sniper still doesn't really understand, all he knows it just comes from detonating things. That's why the tavern had a carved bomb decorating its name over the door two. The two others, Soldier and Engineer, Sniper met only couple weeks after finding the tavern for the first time. Soldier announced his nickname with obvious pride almost immediately after the idea came up, and it didn't really surprise anyone. The man liked to speak about war and guns, to the point it almost scared everyone else. (And Jane sounded way too feminine for a guy like him, in Sniper's opinion anyway.) Engineer seemed to be a really good friend with Soldier, and the man wore goggles and overalls always when Sniper saw him. Though he's probably not the right person to point out anyone's way to dress up, with the shabby hat and scratched aviators. Engie's real name was Dell, and while it was shorter than the nickname Sniper found Engineer more fitting. It just suited the Texan so well. It came from his knowledge about building and making things, and he was the one who repaired Sniper's van back then. For free, even.

Then there's a big bear-like Russian man, Misha, who goes by nickname Heavy. Probably because it was the first word that came into Sniper's mind when he saw the man. Right after big, and that doesn't sound nice. The last one of their group is a German man, Josef, who goes by the nickname Medic. Which is okay, because apparently he has been a real doctor before losing his medical license for reasons that Sniper preferred not to know. And, well, his own name was also easy to come up with because he had been shooting with sniper rifle since turning six, and hell, was he good at it.

 

On that particular evening nothing had been out of the ordinary. They drank, shared stories, laughed, argued, fought, and laughed again. It was a good way to spend an evening, and Sniper felt like he didn't really need anything else in his life. He was happy. About an hour after midnight a subject, that Sniper wasn't really comfortable with, came up. Everyone knew both Engineer and Demoman had wives, and while Demoman was waiting for firstborn with his wife, Engineer had been blessed (or more like burdened, Sniper thought) with six. Most of the stories the Texan told had always something to do with his wife and bunch of kids, and Sniper didn't really mind listening as long as he didn't need to think about his own family or his non-existent love life.

"Ach, must ve speak about zis again?" Medic scoffed and leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Sniper knew Medic had been married couple years ago, but he wasn't sure why the marriage had ended.

"Ja, is interesting." Heavy nodded and leaned against the table. Medic let out a groan but didn't comment the matter more, so the conversation kept going. Soldier never complained, but he didn't really join the conversation either. Sniper just assumed that the man didn't really have anything to share, because most likely any sheila with sense in her head wouldn't fall for a guy like that. No offense.

"Back in Russia, Heavy also has a woman. A beautiful." The big man sighed and shook his head slowly.

"If only could get Natascha here with me.." He received a sympathetic pat to his shoulder from Demo before the man turned to look at Sniper.

"How aboot ye, laddie? Gon' hunt yerself a burd anytime soon?"

"Naw, mate.. Oi ain't in need of one, is all." He shrugged and took a long drag of his beer, third one that evening.

"Sure ye do. Ain't theer n'body who's gut no need for a own bonnie." Demo grinned so widely it made few wrinkles appear to corner of his eye. Sighing deeply Sniper shook his head and took a long swig of his drink. They had been through this same conversation for countless of times, and he had known these fellows for longer than most of his friends had ever stayed in his life, and somehow he wasn't still able to tell them..

"Not tryin' tah preach here, son, but a gal would do sum real good forya." Engineer nodded, his voice more suggesting than demanding. Sure, Sniper knew his life lacked action on the bedside, but that didn't mean he was literally in need of someone. He liked the silence and he liked his own space. There was no better way to live but by making his own rules, and doing whatever the mind and heart wants.

"Oi know y'all mean good, but.." He took a moment to pick the right words.

"Don't feel like Oi'd be ready to settle down in me life just yet. Still need to see things, and travel the world." He received few approving mumbles and hums, and by that they all focused to emptying their pints again.

When Sniper was about to get going and have some shuteye, it was Soldier who pulled him aside from the small crowd of people who still lingered inside the tavern. He looked around as if he was making sure no-one was listening to them, or so Sniper assumed. He couldn't be sure because the man wore a ridiculous helmet that was too big and covered his eyes most of the time.

"You ever heard of crossroads deals, private?" Soldier muttered voice low, his face so close to Sniper's that he was able to smell the beer in his breath. Sniper pushed him away and mumbled something about personal space before answering to the question.

"Not really, haven't been any need listenin' to fairytales." Sniper had heard the man share quite a few fairytales of his own to those who were willing to listen, but he hadn't thought the American would actually be so.. Serious about them.

"Is there something you wish for?" Soldier stood up straight, hands behind his back and it made Sniper feel like he was being questioned in the army again.

"Don't everyone wish for somethin'? Look, Solly, Oi'm tired.. Is this going somewhere or can Oi just go?"

"Sleep is for the weaklings! I am not saying that you should bury a box", he snickered silently after that, "to crossroads, but.. You should. Dismissed." Soldier saluted with his index and middle finger and made a sharp turn before marching away, leaving Sniper alone with his confusion. Most of the time he had no idea what the American man really even spoke about.

 

Soldier's words plagued in Sniper's mind as he walked towards his van that was parked to the small parking lot next to the tavern. He had heard rumors and stories about the crossroads deals, but never really put any thought into them. They all sounded so ridiculous and made up. They got to be, obviously. There's no such a thing as supernatural creatures. Who could turn wishes into reality just like that anyway? What he had heard was that a demon can be summoned at a crossroads by filling a container with specific items: dirt from graveyard, a black cat's bone, and a picture of the human making the deal. These three items are to be put into the box and buried the center of the crossroads. And somehow Sniper felt himself stupid as he stared at the box in his hands. If someone would see him now they would probably think he's a bit loose from the head.

The items he needed had been easy to find, and a small part of him hoped they wouldn't have been, because maybe then he wouldn't be standing there. But since he was already there, it wouldn't hurt to try.. Crouching down he put the box into the hole he had dug a minute or two ago, and started to fill the hole again with his hands. When the box was completely buried Sniper stood up again, and slowly glanced around. Nothing happened. He let out a small scoff and pressed his palm against his forehead. Did he really wait for something to happen? Or someone to arrive? Nah, 'course not. He's a sensible and mature man, who doesn't believe in stories made for kids and those who want to believe in them. Furrowing his brows Sniper lowered his hand and glanced at the spot where he had buried the box.

If he _really_ didn't believe.. Why was his heart beating like crazy?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god those accents are killing me  
> prepare to see a lot of changes in them as this goes on  
> I'm a failure ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Against the common belief, the time for demons was not over. People just didn't see them anymore that often, which made them think demons aren't real. But if you can't see them, it doesn't mean they don't exist, right? Occasionally there were few stupid enough to try and summon one. Usually it ended up being a group of teenagers who thought it'd be a fun thing to try, something that could be compared to Bloody Mary or Ouija board. Which is why the sudden call from the upper world caused quite a ruckus in the underworld.

 

A moment passed.

 

Slowly Sniper felt how the tension started to ease from his shoulders, and briefly wondered had he messed up something. Maybe he was supposed to say something or do some voodoo dance crap.. Realizing what he just thought, he almost felt like slapping himself. Demons aren't real, and magic doesn't exist, and he's been standing there like a bloody idiot for good ten minutes now. Completely wasted time, that is. He didn't know why he believed anything would even happen in the first place.  
Which is why when he turned around Sniper felt like his heart just made a volt as cold wave hit through him. A pair of intense red eyes stared at him only from mere two meters away, and he was sure he would've heard if someone had approached him.

"Christ, mate!" Clutching at his chest with one hand Sniper gasped, "hasn't anyone told ye not to creep up on a man loike a bloody spook?" The only reaction he got from the male was a slight arch of his brow, which clearly said 'I couldn't care less'. Oh, shit.. Well, now he's done it.

"I must admit, monsieur, you are not what I was waiting for." Finally the man spoke up after what felt like hours, making Sniper feel like he had just woken up from a dream. How long had he been staring at him? Obviously long enough to make him look that annoyed. The male was wearing blue pinstripe suit, and he was eyeing Sniper from head to toe. It made the Australian shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Wot kind of accent is that?" Sniper opened his mouth, but was slightly disappointed with what came out. That was not what he had in mind.

"I could ask you ze same." Crossing his arms the suited male gave him a look which gave away his obvious displeasure.

"Oi'm from Australia. Wot, ye mean yer fancy demon skills can't sense that?" Sniper grinned, mimicking the recent action and crossed his own arms.

The demon scoffed, shaking his head. "Ugh. Never before in my long career 'ave I met someone with such lack of social skills."

"Hey! It's not exactly me everyday hobby to summon any goddamn demons to do.. whatever they do." Sniper was fast to defend himself, though he must admit, the demon was right. He wasn't the most social bloke around there, and would probably never be.

"Oh? So you do not know what I can do?"

"Never said Oi don't."

"'ow about you prove yourself. My time is precious, and I am not entirely fond of zis place." The demon looked around with expression that looked like he had just smelled something disgusting, taking in the surroundings, which mostly included bare ground and dirt.

Great. Out of all demons he could've get, he got the prissy one. That's _just_ his luck.

"Yeah, okay." Sniper nodded and cleared his throat.

 

Another silence.

 

"Well?" There was clear annoyance in the demon's voice which made Sniper hurry with his answer. He wasn't planning on pissing off a demon who could do pretty much everything just with snap of his fingers.

"Oi just told ye I haven't done this before! And Oi feel like, shit, I don't know.. Like I should know ye a bit better before sellin' me soul and everythin'."

The Australian watched how the demon raised his other hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Let me ask you a question.. Where 'ave you learned about zis whole zing?" It wasn't like that man with a face like a horse would be his first first-timer. Heavens no, most of the people doing crossroads deals were first timers, and after one deal they usually don't need to (or even shouldn't) do it again. He had been a proud and cocky demon years and years ago, when it was still fun to explain everything for those who asked. It had been hilarious to see how some got more and more excited (about selling their soul, something he would never understand, but oh well), and some realized the mistake they had made. But this man.. He showed neither. He was just standing there and being all clueless and useless.

"A friend told me."

"Why didn't zis 'friend' give any other advice, zen? It would 'ave made my job so much easier." The demon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. Sniper wasn't sure should he be annoyed or offended by the obviously frustrated signals the demon was giving. He decided to ignore them.

"Look mate, Oi tried this out 'cause Oi was curious. And Oi got nothing 'gainst ye leaving. Feel free to bugger off if this's too much for yer purdy head."

The demon only sighed. He would be stupid to let such a .. _potential_ soul go. Literally.

"Well zen.. To get zings finally going, 'ow about you tell me what you most want in zis world. What is it zat your 'eart desires, what are you longing for? What is your wish, monsieur Mundy?" Suddenly the demon's voice got both serious and seductive, an odd but surprisingly pleasant mixture, and Sniper felt his mouth go dry. He didn't even notice the use of his name at that point.  
He hadn't put enough of thought into that. He had absolutely no idea what he wanted. What would be good enough to trade his soul for it?

"Christ.." He breathed and glanced around, putting his brain to work feverishly. "I mean.. A new van would be useful. But Oi've got money of me own, don't need to buy one with me soul. Though more money would be handy too.. And Oi already like me current job. A new rifle, the old girl's gettin' a bit rusty. Maybe if I didn't--"

"Oh mon dieu, would you shut up!" The demon snarled, startling Sniper from his thoughts and cutting off his rambling. "Did you 'onestly summon me without even knowing what to ask for?" He was quite surprised with himself that he hadn't killed the man just yet. Must be the boredom from keeping him from doing that. The horse-face should consider himself lucky he didn't have anything better to do than listen to all his nonsense.

"Yeah, seems like so.." Sheepishly Sniper answered, rubbing the back of his head with his other hand. "Didn't think anyone would really show up, ye see." Sniper was amused to see the unbelieving expression on the demon's face, but when the man turned around and started to walk away his amusement disappeared rapidly. That wasn't supposed to happen, he wanted to use the opportunity. And maybe some part of him wanted to show to all of his friends his life wasn't as miserable as they believed. Though, if he needs help from a crossroads demon, doesn't that only mean his life really _is_  miserable? Shaking those thoughts away, the Australian took a step toward the walking male.

"Hey, wait up!" He called out and hurried after the male. "I still want to wish!" Sniper didn't know why he even wanted to do that. Why would he knowingly trade his soul to a demon? But he had already said that, and it was too late to change his mind. And after all, making his dreams come true sounded pretty tempting. He just needed to figure out his dreams first.  
The demon had stopped his walking, and suddenly he was right in front of him, almost so close their chests were touching. Sniper noticed they were about the same height. He might be a bit taller.

" _Tomorrow_." The demon hissed between his teeth. Confused, Sniper looked into those captivating red eyes waiting for explanation, which he soon received.

"Tomorrow, I'll be waiting for you. You better show up, with ze wish. Same place, same time." The demon's mouth was a tight line as he spoke, and his tone left no room for arguing. Hastily Sniper nodded.

"Roight. Tomorrow. 'kay."

And with that, the demon disappeared with a waft of blue smoke.

 

It took a good five minutes for Sniper to get his arse moving. The trip back to his van was short but twice as sluggish. His thoughts were racing and bouncing all around like a pin ball. Had everything happened just now? What if he's just passed out and now he's having some drunken dream? That sounds way much more possible than actually meeting with a demon. He'll wake up with a killer headache and worst hangover ever, and he's not going to remember _anything_ from the whole night.

It sounded nice. But as he reached his van and opened the door, Sniper was pretty sure it wasn't a dream. Not even a nightmare. No, he was really about to sell his soul to a demon, in a trade he barely knew anything. Whispers and rumors from shady people can hardly be considered as facts. He stepped inside the car closed the door behind him, heavy sigh leaving his lips. The clock on his wrist read 1:23 am, but that didn't stop the man from making himself a thick, black cup of coffee. He needed to _think_. He needed to go through the whole conversation he had had with the demon barely five minutes ago. Taking steady sips from his steaming mug the Australian sat down onto his makeshift bed, eyes wandering around in the dim room.

After around twenty minutes of sitting and pacing out in silence he had came to a conclusion, that fretting over it wouldn't make it any better, because he really had summoned a bloody demon. But oddly, he didn't regret it. Not yet, at least. For now, he needed answers. Answers from someone who really knows what they are talking about. And who would be a better man for that, than the trustworthy and known story teller, Tavish DeGroot?


End file.
